


Once Upon a Time in the Earth Kingdom

by engmaresh



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Light Angst, Metalbending & Metalbenders, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27882318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/pseuds/engmaresh
Summary: Many years after the fall of the Earth Empire, Avatar Korra visits Kuvira at her metalbending academy. The trip is both business and pleasure. Kuvira’s past has an unfortunate tendency to cast very large shadows, and every now and then, one of them chooses to darken, try as Kuvira might to move away from it all.
Relationships: Korra & Kuvira (Avatar)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	Once Upon a Time in the Earth Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

> Written for _[Season of Change: A Kuvira Zine](https://kuvira-zine.tumblr.com/)_

The good news was that the Air Nomads visited Guwei often enough that Shumai’s appearance in their airspace elicited nothing more than a few curious glances skyward. Korra was grateful for that. The conversation she was readying herself for wasn’t going to be a pleasant one, and to have an excited crowd trailing after her was just going to make it worse.

The building she was looking for sat out on the outskirts of the town, under the shadow of Holey Mountain. It’d been over ten years, but Korra still couldn’t quite believe that _that_ had become its official name. It sounded like something Bolin would have come up with, but it turned out that the residents of Guwei were quite proud of their landmark’s punny name.

It was late afternoon, which meant that the rays of the sun fell just at the right angle to shine through the giant hole that had been blasted into the mountain, creating a perfect circle of light that landed at the archway leading to Korra’s destination.

The sign on the archway read GUWEI JUNIOR METALBENDING ACADEMY. Peering over Shumai’s saddle, Korra spotted five figures in the training yard, standing in a circle. Looks like class was in session.

Lowing softly, Shumai landed at the entrance, and immediately set about snuffling at the leaves of the two neem trees that had been planted there. Neem leaves were a particular favourite of air bisons, and Korra knew those two had been planted specifically for her ride.

“Don’t eat all of them,” she advised Shumai, ruffling the fur on her neck, before she dismounted lightly. Dust puffed up under her feet.

She passed under the simple stone archway, taking a moment to trail her fingers over the snouts of one of the carved badgermoles upon which the pillars rested. A silly superstition, Kuvira had said, when she’d raised them from the ground, but Korra knew she kept up with it anyway, as did her students. Badgermoles for steadiness and guidance, even in the dark.

The moment she stepped into everyone’s line of sight, four pairs of eyes immediately flitted over to her. Korra winced.

“Eyes forward!” Kuvira ordered, and the gazes immediately retreated. “Keep your focus. Do not allow yourself to be distracted.”

“Yes, sifu,” the four children chanted. To their credit, they hadn’t been disrupted in their exercise, which involved passing five ever shifting blobs of metal to each other in one endless chain. Kuvira herself formed part of the circle, shifting each metal blob into the shape of a coin every time it passed between her hands. Each child seemed to have their own designated shape; a globe, a cube, a star, and in the hands of the only girl in the group, a sycee.

“Avatar Korra,” Kuvira said in greeting, as well as in challenge, since Korra could immediately sense the curiosity levels of the four children ratchet up by several degrees. But this time all of them kept their gazes focused firmly on their bending. A pleased smile spread across Kuvira’s face, then she clapped her hands. Under her command, the five orbs of metal immediately flew from her student’s grips to mould themselves around her lower arms. Her four students rose from their fighting stances, broke from the circle, and with two children on either side of her, both teacher and students gave Korra a respectful bow.

“Uh...hi.” Korra still found Kuvira’s initial formality awkward, especially when it extended to the people around her. The first few times it had happened, she’d been concerned, worried that Kuvira was being too strict with her students, treating them the way she’d once led her soldiers. Then she’d found that Kuvira was just a little bit old-fashioned when it came to teaching, and what she considered good manners and respect. The smile she gave Korra when she straightened up from her bow was warm.

“Hello, Korra.” The curve of her lips turned sly. “Here for some bending lessons?”

Korra snorted. She couldn’t tell if that was for her benefit or for the kids’, but it did make Kuvira’s students turn to their sifu in awe, as though they couldn’t quite believe that their teacher dared to be quite so familiar with the Avatar.

“You knew I was coming.”

“Yes,” said Kuvira. “I’m impressed that you finally learned the value of calling ahead.” She waved her hand, and her metal bracers left her arms, splitting into four globes of equal size. With a flick of her fingers, she sent them zooming over to her students, who took such seamless control over them that Korra found herself quite impressed.

“Control exercises five and six,” Kuvira told them, pointing them to the other end of the courtyard. “Ten sets each, then take a break.”

The kids trooped off, but not without casting several more curious looks in Korra’s direction, whispering furiously to each other.

“So,” said Kuvira, wiping her hands down on the skirt of her tunic. “Let me make you some tea, and then you can tell me why you needed to see me so badly.”

Korra followed her through an open doorway and into a tiny, if airy kitchen. One side held a simple cooking space, with shelves crammed with tins and jars of spices lining the wall. Woks and pans hung from the ceiling. The other end of the room doubled as a dining-cum-living area, and opened out into a small garden, with only wooden blinds protecting the space within from the elements. Tucked around the corner was a narrow staircase Korra knew led to the second floor, where Kuvira’s bedroom was located. This was her life now; the school, the small house overlooking it, her students, in the city that had grown in the shadow of the mountain she’d blasted through during her first spirit weapons test.

“Wong! Fei! Hwang!” Kuvira barked, voice loud enough to carry into the training yard, not even looking through the doorway to address the still whispering boys. “Quit playing around! Horse stance and start bending, look at Wu Zhao, she’s doing it perfectly!”

“Wu Zhao does _everything_ perfectly,” Korra heard one of the boys grumble in undertone, but they all chorused “Yes, Sifu!” respectfully and fell into practice.

Korra took a seat at the low, Fire Nation-style table. From where she was sitting, she could keep an eye on the children while Kuvira made tea. Not that she thought Kuvira’s students needed much supervision, but they were kids after all. Kids got into all sorts of trouble. Or maybe she was just too used to kids the likes of which Meelo and Rohan had once been, and Opal and Bolin’s own rambunctious twins. “How long have you had this batch?” she asked Kuvira, as the other woman walked over to the table with a teapot and two cups in hand.

“Six months soon,” said Kuvira. She waved her hand over the stone table, revealing a hollow center from which she retrieved a tin of sesame biscuits.

“Hiding snacks from the kids?”

“You know children, they’re like a swarm of locusts, they’ll eat anything in their path.”

Korra laughed, and helped herself to one of the biscuits. It was sweet and crumbly, and she had to hold her hand under her mouth to catch the crumbs. She’d forgotten how messy these were to eat.

“Wu Zhao’s doing well,” she said, watching over Kuvira’s shoulder. The exercise Kuvira had them doing involved punching motions, the metal hovering before each fist, moving forward and back with the motion. Korra was sure Kuvira had drilled very specific instructions about the distance between fist and metal into the children. Control. It was all about teaching these children control. Over their bodies, their breathing, their temperaments and their element. A long time ago, Kuvira had confessed to Korra that had she been taught more refined control over her feelings and metal at a younger age, her life (and the fate of the Earth Kingdom) might have turned out much differently.

“Wu Zhao’s a natural,” said Kuvira. “She could already be going to normal bending school, she’s just here because she’s impatient and more than a bit of a smartass.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Korra said with a chuckle. “Should you be playing favourites?”

Kuvira merely smirked into her cup. Korra recognized that smirk. She’d seen it before, on the faces of her own bending masters, who’d all had a favourite too--Korra herself. And they hadn’t let her forget it, not with every kata or taegeuk they’d made her practice over and over, every time they’d knocked her down during a sparring match, or made her balance on one leg or her hands for hours, all to unlock that promise of power within her. She looked back at the girl, positioned firmly in her wide-legged martial stance, punching methodically. Kuvira was probably strictest with her too.

Kuvira turned to follow her gaze. “She has potential,” she said.

“You know she’s probably imagining that it’s your face she’s punching, right?”

The other woman grinned. “Good.”

“I thought you were supposed to be teaching them control.”

“That _is_ control.” Kuvira took a sip of her tea. “She hasn’t thrown a rock at me. Yet. Trust me, at her age I’d already been kicked out of two bending schools for being unruly and disruptive.”

Korra laughed, slapping her knee. “Oh, I’ve been there. You have no idea how many sifus lined up to teach the Avatar, and how many quit after just one session. I think the shortest lasted about fifteen minutes? Can’t say I blame him, I set his moustache on fire and it was only partly an accident.”

Kuvira threw back her head and laughed. She had a nice laugh, Korra thought as she joined in, clear and heartfelt, though the number of times she’d heard it could be counted on the fingers of one hand.

“So,” said Kuvira, her expression finally settling back to serious. She thumbed a tear from the corner of her eye, then rested her hands on her knees. Under her sharp green gaze, Korra felt appraised. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way to Guwei for friendly chit chat. Out with it. What do you want from me?”

Korra made a face. It was no surprise that Kuvira had her pegged, but she still felt a little bad about it. “That obvious, huh?”

“You only visit on me non-Avatar business during the holidays. It’s not that hard a pattern to figure out.”

All right then, back to business it was. “You’ve heard about the southern peninsula’s petition for secession, right?”

Kuvira’s expression grew pinched. Stiffly, she said, “How could I have not?”

Internally, Korra groaned to herself. It was always nice to talk to Kuvira without the shadow of her past actions looming over them. Unfortunately Kuvira’s past actions had a tendency to cast very large shadows, and every now and then, one of them chose to darken, leaving it up to Korra to clean up the mess. “So…” She nervously sucked on her teeth. “They never quite lost faith in the Earth Empire. In the ideas that the Great Uniter stood for. You know--”

“Yes, I damn well know,” Kuvira interrupted harshly. “I was there.” She looked pale, but her face was a mask. “Which part of my past has come back to haunt me this time?”

Korra took a deep breath. “President Yongfu has decided not to send troops to the border. The United Forces are not getting involved either, not unless violence breaks out.”

“So you came to me. What dirty work do you want me to carry out for you?”

“Spirits, Kuvira,” Korra hissed. “Do you think so little of me? I’m not here to make you do anything. I’m just here to warn you--”

“That I’ve got assassins after me? Do I need to start worrying about Su climbing in through my bedroom window at night? Don’t tell me they want me to be president--”

“Uh…”

Kuvira’s face, if possible, went even stonier. “You’re joking.”

Korra grimaced. “Unfortunately, I’m not.”

For a long moment, Kuvira just looked at her, her face empty. Then she started to chuckle. Slowly, and so softly at first, that for second Korra thought she was crying. The laughter grew, sounding nothing like it had before, rolling out of her in loud, slightly manic sounding peals, as Korra stumbled up to her knees, leaning over the table to try and calm her. But Kuvira only flinched back, turning away, her shoulders hunched and shaking.

“What did you do to her?”

Korra whirled around to find herself pinned under the accusing gazes of four angry children, all framed at the doorway like the world’s tiniest triad members.

“I--”

At the sound of Wu Zhao's voice, Kuvira’s laughter had abruptly cut off. Whatever emotional turmoil Korra’s words had triggered, it didn’t show in her movements as she rose gracefully to her feet and walked over to her students. The kids seemed to take that as a sign to approach, and they all immediately poured through the door, clustering around their teachers like excited goatdog pups.

“Are you okay, Sifu?” they asked. “Can we make you some tea? Shall we make her go away, Sifu?”

That last one was accompanied by a particularly vicious look aimed in Korra’s direction. She had to turn away, suddenly feeling a little like an intruder among them. And because she couldn’t help but smile at the threat, at the idea of a small boy being willing to fight the Avatar on his teacher’s behalf. These were Kuvira’s kids alright.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Kuvira reassured them. “I already have tea, and Korra’s a friend. She just had some...bad news.”

“She’s bad news!”

“Alright!” said Kuvira sternly, rising to her feet and slowly but steadily herding them to the door. “Lessons are over for today. Time to go.”

“But what about--?”

“What’s that I hear, Hwang? You want to do ten sets of control exercises eight and nine?”

It came as no surprise at all that Hwang’s protests immediately stopped. “Nope, Sifu, I’m good.”

“Here,” said Kuvira, and Korra heard coins clink, and an excited murmur rise among the children. “Get yourselves some ice cream. And don’t tell your parents.”

“Thank you, Sifu Kuvira!” they chorused. There was a brief moment of silence as they bowed to each other, then Korra heard the fading scampering of small feet and deemed it safe to turn around. She watched quietly and warily as Kuvira slowly locked up, pushing shut and bolting the heavy wooden door under the main archway and letting down all the blinds around the kitchen.

And when she was done, she stood in the middle of the kitchen and put her face in her hands.

Korra started to rise. “Are you--”

“Don’t,” interrupted Kuvira, holding up a finger in warning. She raised her head, dry-eyed. “Not until I’ve had something stronger to drink.”

So Korra remained silent, watching as Kuvira opened the cupboard under her sink and almost crawled all the way in to drag out whatever booze she had stashed away. She hoped it was booze. It was under the sink, and Kuvira had an iron stomach; it could be floor polish for all she knew. But when Kuvira finally emerged, her hair a little cobwebby and holding the bottle aloft triumphantly, Korra recognized the label on the bottle.

“You have Yue’s Tears?” she exclaimed, reaching for the dusty bottle. It was still sealed. “Where on earth did you get this?”

“Engagement present. From Varrick.” She snorted, and Korra wasn’t sure if it was at the thought of her former...compatriot? Subordinate? Partner-in-crime? Or at the memory of the disastrous end to that engagement. “I don’t have any wine glasses and I don’t want to clean up more, use these.” And she pushed the empty cups of tea towards Korra.

“Are you sure we can drink this?” asked Korra, inspecting the label on the bottle. She knew little about wine, only what she’d picked up listening to Asami, but it was Yue’s Tears. It had to be a good vintage, right?

“Of course,” said Kuvira. “What d’you think I should save it for? My wedding? Hah!” Before Korra could say anything further, she’d already broken the wax seal, and was digging out the cork with a knife. “Don’t know why I haven’t opened it sooner, but I guess now’s as good a time as any.”

She poured them both a glass, seizing hers and throwing it back like a shot before Korra could even reach for her own. Korra took a rather more subdued sip, allowing the flavour of the wine to spread out across her tongue the way Asami had taught her. It was stronger than she’d anticipated, but the sweetness of it hid much of its strength, while the alcohol brought out some of the more floral elements of the ice plums they were fermented from. And after she’d swallowed her mouthful, a bitter note rose in the back of her throat, like sorrow. Yue’s Tears.

Kuvira didn’t look as impressed with the wine as Korra felt. “I remember now why I don’t like sweet wines,” she muttered, but it didn’t stop her from pouring herself another glass and topping up Korra’s. It felt wasteful to drink this expensive wine like it was a jar of cheap baiju, but hey, it was also Kuvira’s wine to waste, and no doubt Varrick had far more expensive vintages squirreled away in one of his many offices.

“Should we really--” began Korra after Kuvira poured her a third glass and her own fifth, but Kuvira cut her off with a finger to her lips.

“Hush.” She knocked back the glass. “I want to be able to forget everything you told me.”

“You can’t drink your guilt away,” said Korra, cupping her hands around her wine, feeling a little how Tenzin probably felt when he was trying to give her what he deemed _sage_ advice.

“I’m not trying to drink my guilt away,” Kuvira said with an annoyed groan. “I’m just trying to get drunk.”

“Are you there yet?”

“Give me a few more minutes.”

If ten years ago, if anyone would’ve told Korra she’d be good friends with the woman who tried to kill her several times over...she would’ve scoffed at the idea. It sounded like something Aang would do, and even Aang hadn’t sat down for tea with Ozai after defeating him. But then again, Kuvira wasn’t anything like Ozai, and Korra found that making friends was far easier on the body and spirit than keeping enemies. Kuvira seemed to have come to a similar conclusion.

So when Kuvira shuffled round the table, leaned her head against Korra’s shoulder, and told her quietly, “I don’t want to do this again,” Korra nodded, and put her arm around the other woman.

“I know.”

“I don’t know why they keep thinking I want to go back to that….”

“You were efficient--”

“I was. And thanks to me a lot of people died for that efficiency.”

Korra knew that. She’d been there when the evidence had been laid out at Kuvira’s trial--her signature and seal on the conscription orders, the plans for the labour camps, the spirit vine weapon, the ridiculous yet functional mecha. She chewed her lip.

“They can’t force you to work for them. Or with them. I’ve spoken to the President, the Fire Lord, and the Water Tribe Chieftains, they’re not going to recognize their sovereignty if they keep pushing Imperial doctrine.”

Kuvira exhaled sharply, digging her fingers into Korra’s bicep. “I like it here. I like this-this quiet life. I like Guwei, I like the people, I like my students--” her voice took on an angry edge-- “I’m not leaving.”

“You don’t have to,” Korra assured her. “I’m handling this, I just wanted to let you know in person.”

“You didn’t want me running off to do something stupid.”

“You’re still on parole--”

“Forever.”

“--and I was worried.”

“It’s fine,” said Kuvira, slurring the “it’s”. It seemed that she was finally drunk enough for her own tastes when she licked the last dregs from her teacup and turned it upside down on the table. “I’m fine.”

“You just spent an hour getting drunk and wasting really expensive wine,” Korra observed dryly.

“It wasn’t very good. But Varrick never had good taste.”

Despite herself, Korra found her curiosity roused. “Did you do this a lot?”

“What?” asked Kuvira. “Drink? In the military?” She snorted. “In the first year we paid our conscripts partially in baijiu because we were using all the money for developing our technology and infrastructure. It was only after the second, when we started having external investors and a functioning economy again when we could give people actual wages.

“So yes,” she continued, “We drank a lot. To socialise, to sleep, to forget. I signed a lot of treaties tipsy. The trick is to make sure the other party is drunker than you.”

She sighed deeply, slumping further against Korra. “This was a bad idea.”

Korra mmm-ed but refrained from saying anything else. She put aside her own cup and carefully hauled Kuvira to her feet. “It’s fine,” muttered the other woman. “I can stand.”

Ignoring Korra’s careful hand at her back, she staggered over to the sink and splashed cold water on her face, drying off on a dishcloth.

They managed to make their way to the bedroom with no one falling down the stairs. The bed creaked dangerously as Kuvira threw herself down on it. “Take the other side,” she grunted, struggling to slide her feet under the neatly tucked blanket. Korra had to help her with that.

“Do you want some water?” she asked, dragging the blanket up over Kuvira’s shoulders.

“No,” said Kuvira, and then she was out like light.

* * *

At first Korra wasn’t quite sure what had woken her. Kuvira’s snoring, maybe. The loud chirping of insects coming through the open window. The creak of a floorboard--she opened her eyes and found herself meeting Kuvira’s.

There was someone in the room with them.

Kuvira was the first out of bed, throwing her pillow into a corner of the room with enough force that it burst upon impact, sending feathers flying. Korra caught them in a gust of wind, blowing them into the face of a second intruder lurking on the other side of the room, one they hadn’t heard.

Whoever they were, they were good. After nimbly dodging and weaving past several of Korra’s strikes, her opponent turned out to be an earthbender, pulling up chunks from the stairwell to hurl at her. Korra did her best to redirect them at her attacker, but several punched through the wall, sending a painting and several other knick knacks crashing to the ground. Unlike Korra, their attackers weren’t hampered by the desire not to bring the house down around them.

On the other side of the room, Kuvira had managed to immobilise her attacker with her metal bracers, only to be forced to frantically backpedal when the woman breathed fire into her face.

“No!” she yelled, leaping over the bed to avoid further flames only to have the bedding catch fire. “Those are silk, you fool!”

As the firebender was briefly distracted trying to undo her cuffs, Kuvira grabbed the flaming bedding by the corners, folding them over in an attempt to smother the fire. Then she hoisted up the entire burning bundle and threw it out the window.

Another brick smashed into the wall next to Korra, taking a shelf full of curios with it. If they weren’t careful they were going to have Kuvira’s house falling down around their ears.

“Let’s take this outside,” Korra growled, and a blast of wind from her open palms sent her opponent tumbling down the stairs, trailing feathers in the slipstream. She followed after with a blast of air, just as a sudden shout and sound of splintering wood came from the room above her.

Her earthbender was light-footed for her element, dodging Korra’s rapid-fire blasts of heat and air, digging up chunks of rock from the ground as missiles. Something cracked, and Korra winced as Kuvira’s entire stone table came hurtling towards her face. She broke it down it two, redirected the two pieces and winced again at the sound of the two pieces of rock tearing up Kuvira’s carefully tended garden.

From the corner of her eye she noticed her opponent raise her arms. Korra felt the earth vibrate beneath her. Before she could raise up the ground, Korra made a quick slicing motion with her hand. With that gesture she tore the kitchen tap out of the wall and bent the jet of water at her opponent, pining first her hands together with ice, then freezing her to the ground up to the waist.

“Stay put,” she growled, and bent Kuvira’s kettle into a blindfold for good measure. She then ran out into the courtyard, where she could hear, rather unnervingly, Kuvira laughing.

“Come on, you can do better than that!” she was jeering when Korra arrived in the seemingly empty training yard. A heap of silk smouldered gently in the corner, and Korra snuffed it out with a wave of her hand. She quickly spotted the firebender on the roof, the woman’s face twisted in anger as she threw gout after gout of flames at something hovering above Korra.

Korra looked straight up and her eyes went wide.

For just one brief insane moment, she found herself wondering if Kuvira had somehow learned to airbend. Then she noticed the ring of tiles suspended in the air around Kuvira’s feet. Roofing tiles, from the looks of it. Her feet moved from one tile to the next in a simple four-step dance, never putting too much weight on one for long, but allowing her enough range of motion to dodge and duck under the firebender’s attacks.

Staying afloat seemed to be taking up all of Kuvira’s focus; Korra noticed quickly that she wasn’t actually doing any attacking. “Hey!” she yelled, hoping to distract the firebender.

Only that happened to distract Kuvira too, who glanced down--and suddenly the tiles sagged under her, dropping away from her feet.

“Dammit!” Korra heard her shout, and but she’d already bent another twister under her, surging up to catch her falling friend with one arm. A quick wave with her other hand, and she bent the long length of a gutter into a whip, tugging the firebender off the roof.

Over the sound of rushing air, Kuvira grumbled “I’m fine,” but she didn’t try to pull away. They landed on the ground cushioned by dust and air. Their attacker received a rougher landing, but she was stubborn, the metal wrapped around her leg already glowing red.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” said Kuvira, and buried the woman up to her shoulder in the ground.

“Kuvira!”

“She’s fine,” said Kuvira. “You’re fine, right?” she asked the woman.

“Tyrant!”

“She’s fine.”

Rolling her eyes, Korra gestured towards the kitchen, pulling their other attacker into the courtyard in a wave of half melted water which she then reformed to ice to trap her.

“So who sent you?” Korra asked the two women, removing the kettle-blindfold. “The Hou Ting Clan? The Ganjins? The Red Lotus?”

“We--”

“Don’t speak!” hissed the earthbender. To Korra: “I’d rather die!”

Korra rolled her eyes again, while Kuvira snorted. “No one’s dying today. We’re calling the police and they’ll take care of you.”

But the firebender seemed more than eager to talk already. “We’re here to stop the Great Uniter from rising again!” she yelled, while her companion looked increasingly exasperated. “We’re here to stop you from leading the southern states into secession!”

Crossing her arms, Kuvira scowled down at the woman. “Well, you’re in luck,” she said tonelessly. “I was never going to accept their offer in the first place.”

“Your tyranny--” Her words sunk in. “Wait, what?”

Kuvira uncrossed her arms, clasping them behind her back in loose parade rest. Korra wondered if it was unconscious. When she spoke, her voice was measured and calm, and Korra was strongly reminded of watching the other woman at her trial, pleading guilty to all the charges laid against her.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did to you during my rule, I truly am. But the Earth Empire is dead. Avatar Korra is here to make sure the situation down south doesn’t escalate. And I...I’m nobody. I want to _stay_ nobody, for my sake and everyone else’s.”

She crouched down in front of the two women. “You probably think I got off easy. I think so too. Nothing I ever do now will make up for what I’ve done but...I’m trying.”

The firebender shook her head, tears trailing from her eyes. “That’s not good enough.”

“No,” agreed Kuvira softly. “It’s not.”

Rising, she turned to Korra and whispered, “Let them go.”

“What?”

“Let them go. No harm was done in the end.”

Korra looked to the damaged roof, the hole in the upper floor, the burnt bedding and the wrecked kitchen. “Uh, I don’t think so.”

“C’mon,” said Kuvira, a hint of impatience creeping into her voice. “No one’s dead. Let it go.”

She raised a fist, and the ground coughed up the firebender. Plucking the malformed kettle from Korra’s hands, she walked back to the wrecked house.

Rolling her eyes, Korra melted the water imprisoning the earthbender then grabbed both women by their arms. “I hope you know who I am,” she growled. The women nodded. “I don’t want to see you anywhere near Kuvira or this town again. Leave. Or I’ll have you arrested after all.”

The two women scampered away, shrieking when Shumai suddenly swooped out of the dark and lowed at them.

“And where were you?” Korra scolded her air bison. “Follow them until they leave the village outskirts. Make sure they’re gone.”

As Shumai took off into the air, Korra headed back to the kitchen.

“What was that?” she asked, stalking up to Kuvira.

“The bending?”

“Yes, the bending,” said Korra impatiently. She watched Kuvira fill the kettle from the broken pipe in the wall. The kitchen was a mess. The tatami was drenched. Water still leaked in a steady stream down the wall, flowing out into the garden through the little rifts in the floor that had been torn up during the fighting. Almost like a little diorama of a valley, Korra thought absently.

As she put the kettle to boil, Kuvira tracked Korra’s gaze. “I’ll fix it later, don’t worry about it.” She’d already bent the leaking pipe shut.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“Can I make some tea first?”

“Kuvira.”

Kuvira sighed. “I’ve been reading Jianzhu’s journals and papers. I’ve been borrowing them from Ba Sing Se through the local library.”

“Jianzhu.” Korra frowned. “You mean Avatar Kyoshi’s first bending master, the Butcher of Zhulu Pass, _that_ Jianzhu?”

Kuvira had the grace to look a little shamefaced. “Will you believe me if I told you my interest is purely academic?”

“It’d better stay that way,” Korra warned her. She crossed the room to sit on one of the dry spots on the floor, leaning against a pillar. “How have your reading choices not set off any red flags?”

“Do you really want to know, Korra?” asked Kuvira, her tone arch enough that Korra decided it was one of the things she’d prefer to turn a blind eye to. Not the most responsible approach, but the less headache inducing one. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“You’re on thin ice, Kuvira. I spent almost a decade of my life vouching for you over and over. I’ve just done so again minutes ago. Don’t push it.”

“I won’t,” said Kuvira. Her face was serious and her voice sounded sincere. “At this point I don’t have much going for my life. I’ve given up on power and glory, on family, or what I used to think family was supposed to be, and now I just have this.” She gestured at her courtyard, littered with debris from their fight. “My students. My bending. Might as well make the most of both.”

Korra sighed. “I’m here, you know that right? If you need anything, ask. Let me help.”

“I know,” said Kuvira heavily, but the look on her face softened, her lips curling into something close to a smile. “I appreciate it.”

The kettle whistled. While the tea steeped, Korra called back pieces of the broken table. They came rumbling through the garden, trailing dirt and a broken tin of biscuits. Kuvira sighed when she saw it, but rejoined the two halves easily enough, only the faintest line revealing the break.

She looked out at the ruined garden. “The children are going to be devastated that you’ve ruined their carrot crop,” she said mildly as she poured them tea.

“Sorry,” said Korra sheepishly. “Tell them I’ll come by again sometime and help them replant them.”

“They’d like that,” said Kuvira. They sat like that for a while, letting the tea warm their hands. The sun was rising, the pink dawn glimmering softly around the edges of the hole that Kuvira had long ago blasted through the mountain, once upon a time in another life.


End file.
